The Stories We Tell Ourselves

There's this ageless concern that the world is going to hell. The end is near. All religions talk of this. Science talks of this. Ancient and modern stories. False and true prophets. The Incas, the Aztecs, the Egyptians, the Sumerians. And then modern men and women who constantly feel things are getting worse and the good old days are gone. But is any of this for certain, or is it just within our mind and heart?

Is the key to being content regardless of the external circumstances just as the Roman and Greek stoics teach us? Is the test of life to watch everything before you lose its certainty and say, "It's still a good day"? And as we look back at the good old days with nostalgia, we're still careful not to consider the old days when everything was brutal and not democratic, just pure despotism. But was it that bad, or is that for our comfort—to hope that the days we live in are now somehow better and more civilized than ever before?

In those terrible days, the king demanded a 10% tax, whereas today the generous democratic government requests 30-40%. Then we say it was much harder to earn a living than it is today, but is it? Perhaps the world is constantly dark, evil, falling apart, and, above all, as miserable as miserable can be. But our stories change, and these stories make all the difference.

So, it is all going to hell—maybe—but how much does it matter? Will you even be around long enough to see the final hellishness they warn us about? And how much of your current hell is in your mind alone? Sleepless nights over bills, as if they truly mattered? Sleepless because you can't pay a bill on time—so what? Worried that you're not as loved as you want to be? Concerned that you're not as great as you hope you are?

All these things cause you more suffering than any large-scale world issue, and the only thing that will save you is the story you tell yourself about yourself. And if the world implodes, shouldn't it do so while you feel good about yourself instead of with your face in your palms, shaking your head about what a loser you are?